


The Thing With Feathers

by irisadler



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Coda, Everything isn't okay but they'll get through it together, Introspection, M/M, Pain, Post-Episode: 3x17 Heavenly Fire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-30 11:48:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20096755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irisadler/pseuds/irisadler
Summary: A continuation of the failed proposal scene.





	The Thing With Feathers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SmudleyKAM](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmudleyKAM/gifts).

> Much gratitude to the amazing Kaye for providing feedback and encouragement!

Alec never expected to be _ fighting _ Magnus. Fighting _ beside _ him, perhaps, but never _ this. _ Never grappling with his fia- his boyfriend, fighting to be there for him and with him.

For a moment that seems endless, Magnus struggles against Alec’s embrace. He uses the strength of his body, which is considerable - all those muscles aren’t for show - but it’s still so different from the man Alec first met. Now, when Magnus resists, his efforts are so heartbreakingly _human _that Alec can’t breathe for a second or two.

Alec knows that time can play tricks on you. He’s experienced it often enough in his line of work - the way the world narrows down to one focal point, the way an arrow’s flight can take an age - but this… this is beyond anything else he can recall.

Alec’s world tilts. It spins. It crumbles.

When Magnus collapsed before, Alec had jumped into action, instinct and urgency taking over. There had been no time for thought or even to mourn the lovely moment that had ended too soon. His focus, his priority had been on Magnus, on making sure that Magnus lasted longer than that moment.

Moments can be made again and again.

There will only ever be one Magnus Bane.

It had been incomprehensible to Alec that Magnus had considered not giving up the magic that was killing him. But now… perhaps for the first time, Alec truly begins to sense the magnitude of Magnus’ loss.

He had thought… not that he _ understood, _really, for he knew that would be impossible. Arrogant. Presumptuous.

But maybe he _ has _ been all those things - when he’d blithely told his mother that everything was all right now, when he’d assumed that proposing would somehow _ help. _

He knows now that he can’t live without Magnus. He knows now that he wants Magnus to be his in every way possible. Not someday. Not years from now. He wants Magnus now and for always. He wants them to belong to each other so completely that no one can separate them for the entirety of his lifespan. He wants their names to be inextricably linked.

These things are important to know, but they in no way change what Magnus is facing. Nothing can make this better, can make that problem go away.

Certainly not proposing, wonderful as that would be.

And later, Alec will probably decide that it was for the best. That it should have been… simply and only because he _ wanted _ to, rather than to make a bad time better, though there’s certainly something to be said for stolen moments of joy in the midst of chaos. 

There was a time in his life when Alec didn’t have many such moments, and now, nearly every single one is Magnus.

Magnus walking in those doors at the wedding, holding his head high, proud and vulnerable and so, so beautiful. The way Alec’s heart had utterly stopped at the sight of him, the way he’d forgotten how to breathe… followed by the haze of approaching Magnus and the sense of complete and undeniable rightness when their lips first met.

The sweetness of hope on Magnus’ face when they’d decided to make a go of it after their first date, only matched by the sweetness of their second kiss.

Magnus’ beaming face and breathless giggles during their first time as their hands wandered and explored, lips brushing so tenderly that Alec had thought his heart might burst with happiness.

The sheer relief and peace when Magnus had said he was wrong, that he didn’t have to choose between Alec and the Downworld… as far as wonderful moments went, no romantic setting had anything on the alley behind the Hunter’s Moon.

And so, so many more. Dinners and evenings and mornings. Lazy middle-of-the-night caresses and moments of passion snatched between meetings and trainings and crises.

But right now, all of those memories are tinged with pain.

Because those are the moments that led Alec to fall in love with Magnus. That is the journey between first meeting a handsome warlock and realising that Magnus Bane is the love of his life.

Now, Magnus is Alec’s joy, his love, his everything.

Now, Magnus is his _ world. _

And Magnus is in unimaginable pain.

Pain that may never ease, never end.

-

Alec holds Magnus, his arms wrapped tightly (probably too tightly) around Magnus, his own eyes burning with tears as Magnus sobs.

It takes Alec a few minutes to understand the gasped, tearful words.

“_I’m sorry._”

Over and over.

“_I’m sorry._ _I’m sorry. I’m sorry._”

And the sound of those words - of Magnus _ apologising _ for his vulnerability, his perceived uselessness, his human frailty, his _ pain _\- may be the worst thing of all.

Alec’s won the fight to be there for Magnus. With Magnus. In this crucial moment when the mask has fallen and all that remains is the twisting, swirling, ugliness of the pain.

So why does it feel like he’s lost nearly everything?

Not _ entirely _ everything because Magnus is _ here, _ warm and safe and present in his arms.

But to think that Magnus could have been so entirely, deeply hurt and unhappy all this time is… heartbreaking.

To think that Alec was so unaware, so naive is another thing entirely.

It’s unacceptable.

There may come a time when Alec will have the breathing room to berate himself for that, but that time is not now.

Right now, the only thing that matters is Magnus.

Everything in Alec aches. Burns. _ Yearns _ to make things better. As a Shadowhunter. A big brother. The Head of the Institute. Every single role he’s ever occupied, all the years of training he’s had. The person who’d been forever changed when a beautiful man had smiled at him.

All of it _ screams _ at him to ** _fix _ **this.

And Alec will do anything. Whatever it takes. Beg Lilith herself, if it will end Magnus’ pain.

But…

What if he can’t? What if this is beyond his capabilities, his resources? Beyond what he can accomplish with grit and determination and threats and begging? What if Alec gives everything he has, everything he is… and it simply isn’t enough?

No.

He can’t give up on Magnus. He won’t. For Magnus’ sake, he’ll find a way. If he has to, he’ll _ make _ one. _ Something. _ Some way. ** _Somehow._ **

And in the meantime, he’ll do everything in his power to make sure Magnus feels cared for. Held. Loved. Cherished.

Because this man… this man is the furthest thing from useless, the furthest thing from comedic relief, from a drunkard. Charming and funny and witty, yes. And sure, Magnus could probably drink a Viking under the table normally.

But there’s so much _ more _ to him.

Magnus is a _ wonder, _ an entire world of possibilities and potential wrapped up in one amazing, brilliant, astounding man.

And Alec will simply have to find a way to show him. If his words haven’t been getting through, he’ll find another way. Other ways.

The alternative is unacceptable.

~

Magnus doesn’t know what he expected. Probably that Alec would let him go.

He never imagined this. Never imagined that Alec would _ fight _him verbally and physically.

_ “Let me _ ** _be here_ ** _ with you.” _

Magnus doesn’t know what does it - whether it’s the rough, desperate words or the strong arms around him or the solid, unyielding body against his. It doesn’t matter. Not really.

He loses the battle.

With Alec.

With himself.

With the maelstrom of emotions that toss him about these days, never far from his mind even in the happiest of moments. The dark thoughts that circle and prowl, just waiting for an opening to _ pounce. _

Magnus loses the will to fight, and it all comes crashing down on him at once. He barely notices the deep sobs shaking his body because his heart, his soul, his very _ being_ feel like they’re being ripped into shreds. It’s pure pain, sharp and searing and wrenching.

He’s been trying for so long to hide it. To hide from it.

There have been good moments. Happy moments. Moments with Alec when he’d manage to lose himself in Alec’s smile, his kiss, his touch for just a fraction of a second, his mind going blank except for _ Alec. _

But not even bliss, not even _ Alec _can keep away the darkness, the stark reality, the harsh truth of the matter.

Magnus is useless. He’s lost and, in this, he’s alone.

Because who can understand this?

A fellow warlock can hardly imagine the pain of having this integral part of themselves ripped away.

A mundane would have no concept of what he’s lost.

Other Downworlders come by their traits in different ways, are _ made _ rather than born.

Even Alec - dear, sweet, _ wonderful _ Alec who tries to carry the entire world on those broad shoulders - cannot comprehend this.

This isn’t going away. Not now, maybe not ever. Magnus forgets sometimes that his magic is gone, his immortality, his warlock mark. He finds himself slipping into old habits, a quick gesture here, a flick of the fingers there… only to be reminded all over again of his loss.

Perhaps, with time, that will happen less frequently.

Perhaps, with time, the fresh wound will ache dully rather than sear the breath from his lungs. 

It’s that way with other kinds of loss, after all. Magnus would know.

But this… this is a piece of who Magnus _ is, _ and it’s just… ** _gone_**_. _

His magic is gone.

Lorenzo’s magic is gone.

And if losing his magic once had been difficult, the second time was nigh unbearable. He’d come so close to not doing it, not being _ able _to.

But then, he’d looked at Alec. Looked at the love in those hazel eyes, the hope on that beloved face. And felt the millstone of guilt, cold and heavy in his gut.

He wasn’t supposed to do this to Alec.

He wasn’t supposed to put Alec through losing his love.

That was supposed to be _ Magnus’ _ burden to bear.

So Magnus had done what he was supposed to, what those desperate, hopeful, loving eyes had asked of him, even though he’d felt like his very self was shattering as Lorenzo had pulled the last traces of energy - foreign and a little ill-fitting but still _ magic _\- out of him.

This time, he hadn’t had the motivation of saving Jace for his Alexander to give him something to cling to as the power left his body. He had felt every second of it, had practically felt the magic leaching out of his _ cells _in response to Lorenzo’s call.

Not his.

Not his call, not under his control.

Because the magic will never again obey him.

What avenue is there for restoring his power, his abilities now? There is nothing. No earthly way.

And Magnus had thought he was doing really well, all things considered. At least until he’d the visible reminder that he was ageing.

The alcohol had seemed like a good plan at the time.

It wasn’t until he’d seen the nice dinner Alec had planned that Magnus had regretted that choice, but by then, it was too late to curb his tongue, to hold back the rising tide of long-withheld words.

And now…

Now, Alec knows exactly how broken Magnus was.

And that might be the worst thing of all.

~

For a long time, Alec just holds Magnus. He doesn’t know what to do, so he just keeps holding him.

Alec holds the man he loves as Magnus sobs his heart out, as Magnus breaks into a million pieces right there in Alec’s arms as Alec tries in vain to figure out how to put him back together again.

At some point, Magnus’ knees just seem to give up. He goes limp, and Alec holds him tighter, carefully lowering them both to the floor where they end up in an untidy, graceless sprawl. Magnus continues to weep, great ragged sobs that shake his strong frame. Alec holds him, feeling more helpless right now than he can ever recall feeling.

Magnus cries himself out, and Alec does what he can, the thing he fought for.

He’s there. Present.

He holds Magnus.

He doesn’t talk much. He doesn’t know what to _ say, _apart from things that feel useless and trite.

_ I’m here. I’ve got you. I love you. _

When Magnus has finally cried himself out, his makeup streaked and running, his beautiful face swollen with tears, Alec helps him up.

“Let’s get you to bed,” he says softly. Magnus nods, looking completely exhausted and drained. Alec puts an arm around Magnus’ waist, and Magnus leans heavily against him.

Alec helps Magnus to the door, opening it enough to poke his head out and check the hallway. He doesn’t think Magnus would want others to see him this way. And in this one thing, at least, luck is on their side. The hallway is deserted.

Alec helps Magnus to his quarters. Magnus is worn out and docile, still occasionally mumbling apologies on autopilot. He follows Alec’s guidance and takes a seat on Alec’s bed, his hands resting limply in his lap, his gaze directed downwards but not seeming to really see anything.

Alec kneels in front of Magnus, ducking his head a little to try and make eye contact, but Magnus doesn’t seem to register anything.

“Magnus,” Alec says softly.

Magnus looks up almost absentmindedly, giving Alec an automatic half-smile that’s as empty as his brown eyes. But it’s a response, and that’s something.

“There you are,” Alec says, quiet but relieved. “I’m going to help you get undressed and ready for bed, okay, Magnus?”

Magnus gives a half-hearted nod, not seeming to care much.

Alec begins.

He methodically undoes the laces of Magnus’ shoes and slips them off, then takes off Magnus’ socks. Once Magnus’ feet are bare, Alec takes them in his hands in turn and rubs each one. 

Then, Alec does the same with the remainder of Magnus’ garments, taking Magnus’ pants off carefully and gently before sliding Magnus’ jacket off his shoulders. He undoes the chain loop clasp at the collar of Magnus’ maroon shirt and unbuttons it, taking it off before massaging out the tension in Magnus’ calves, his shoulders, everywhere Alec can reach from here.

Magnus just lets him, passive in a way Alec has never seen.

When Magnus is down to his underwear, Alec straightens up on his knees, leaning in and taking Magnus in his arms. He wants to tell Magnus… something. Everything. But all that comes out is a whispered, helpless _ I love you. _

Magnus doesn’t react. Alec hugs Magnus tighter. Right now, when there are no words, he uses what he has, hoping that he can convey what he means and what he feels through touch, if not speech.

Alec pulls back after a long moment, putting a hand on Magnus’ cheek and looking into his face. “I’m going to go get a few things, okay?” he says quietly.

Magnus nods, automatic and obedient, and seeing Magnus react like that hurts almost more than anything else.

This is _ Magnus. _

Magnus Bane.

High Warlock of Brooklyn.

Magnus has always been so many things. 

Loud and unapologetic.

Warm and compassionate.

Fabulous and gorgeous.

One thing Magnus has never been is meek. Malleable. Seeing him like this is a whole new kind of loss, of grief.

But Alec is determined. Maybe he can’t fix this right now. Maybe he can’t give Magnus back the magic he’s lost. Twice.

But he can help. He’s _ going to _help.

He’s going to do everything in his power to convince Magnus that - makeup or not, High Warlock or not - he is _ loved. _

And maybe he doesn’t have words, but that’s okay. He doesn’t think words would get through to Magnus right now anyway.

Alec gets a few things from the bathroom and brings them back to the bed. Magnus hasn’t moved.

Alec kneels before Magnus again and pulls out a makeup wipe, starting to take off Magnus’ streaked, smudged makeup with gentle, careful touches. He continues until Magnus’ face is bare and clean, then follows it up with the first step of Magnus’ skincare routine.

He’s watched Magnus on countless nights, asking questions about what’s involved because he’s curious and wants to understand all the things that Magnus cares about. That knowledge comes in handy now, giving Alec something to do with his hands, something practical and helpful and caring. 

And ever so slowly, just a little, Magnus seems to come back to himself. At one point, Alec reaches for the wrong bottle and Magnus corrects him. It’s just a single, softly spoken word, but Alec’s heart leaps to hear it.

~

Everything seems muffled. Magnus can hear, but everything sounds like it’s coming from a great distance. He doesn’t quite know how he got here, how everything got so far away, but things seem to hurt less like this, so it’s probably a good thing.

Sure, Alec’s just as distant as everything else, but there’s a trade-off. The crushing weight on Magnus’ chest is lighter, and the gravel in his throat can almost be ignored, just like the crushed glass that seems to move through his veins.

Now, he’s just numb.

Things change. The world shifts around him.

Magnus goes from one state to the next - crumpled on the floor in Alec’s arms to moving down an endless corridor with Alec’s arm around his waist - without hardly noticing the transitions. His mind registers mild surprise when he finds himself sitting on a bed with Alec on the floor in front of him, but that’s about the extent of it.

He thinks there are words. Probably. Alec always gives him words, even when they’re hard. Especially when they’re hard.

But though Magnus hears them, he can’t seem to comprehend them, and he doesn’t have the energy to try.

Alec takes his clothes off, and Magnus just lets him. Nothing else matters. Why would his state of dress or undress matter?

Alec hugs him, and Magnus thinks that should probably make him feel something. But it doesn’t, particularly.

And that fact? Well, that does make him feel something. A little more hollow. A little more empty.

Because… if _ Alec _can’t make him feel, what will?

Is this just how life is now? Is this just how _ he _is now?

Empty. Useless.

Hollow.

Numb.

Magnus barely notices when Alec leaves or when he returns. A soft sigh escapes him as Alec removes his makeup.

Initially, Magnus thinks vaguely that this is right. That this is Alec removing the ‘Magnus Bane’ that Magnus wants to be, the powerful High Warlock Alec fell in love with. The man Alec called beautiful.

The man who doesn’t exist anymore.

But each gentle touch eases something Magnus can’t quite name, a twisting tightness in his chest, and by the time his makeup is off, Magnus is breathing just a little easier.

Instead of feeling stripped of who he is, he feels a little lighter, a little less burdened.

And Alec isn’t done. The gentle, careful, tender touches continue as, step after step, Alec goes through Magnus’ night-time routine.

It’s not a sudden thing. It’s not even something Magnus is particularly aware of in the moment. But gradually, the world moves a little closer. Or maybe it’s Magnus who moves

Gradually, things come into focus a little more. _ Alec _ comes into focus more.

Alec reaches for the wrong product, and without meaning to, Magnus corrects him. 

“Toner.”

The sound of his own voice startles Magnus. It sounds weird. Far away. Feels weird. Hoarse and maybe a bit rusty, like he’d forgotten how to use it.

But Alec gives him a little smile, so Magnus thinks it was probably good to speak, even if it was only one word.

Alec goes to get another product, and Magnus takes stock. He’s surprised to realise he feels… a bit more himself.

And that gradual return to a sense of self continues with Alec’s continued care. Alec carefully finishes up Magnus’ bedtime skincare routine, now making questioning eye contact with Magnus whenever he’s unsure what to do next or if he’s doing it right.

He’s pretty much always doing it right, which gives Magnus a kind of vague warm feeling in his chest. It’s as much as he can feel right now, but it’s something. At least it’s not pain. Magnus doesn’t quite remember the reason for the pain right now, but he _ knows _he doesn’t want to feel it. He would be absolutely fine with never hurting again.

That sounds pretty damn great, actually.

Of course… he also used to feel something when Alec smiled at him, something more than he does now.

But isn’t the trade-off worth it?

Magnus doesn’t know the answer to that, but as is the nature of such things, awareness returns in its own time, quite without his permission.

It’s a slow, creeping thing, numbness giving way to pins and needles, a precursor to the pain that returns in force when full feeling returns.

But Alec doesn’t stop. As the misery slowly rolls back in, Alec keeps up the gentle touches, the careful caresses.

Alec puts away the toiletries and finishes getting them both ready for bed with Magnus cooperating as well has he can.

Then, Alec guides Magnus into bed. Magnus lays on his side, resting his head on the pillow and keeping his eyes on Alec as Alec moves around on Magnus’ side of the bed, setting a glass of water and a couple tablets on the nightstand.

Magnus just watches. He doesn’t say anything, but Alec doesn’t seem to need his words.

It’s a comforting thing, to think that Alec will be there regardless. That Alec doesn’t need to be _ asked _in order to take care of Magnus, to stay by his side when things are weird and hard and ugly and hurting.

Magnus sighs softly as Alec gets into bed behind him. Alec must have taken most of his clothes off too because Magnus can feel warm, bare skin against his own as Alec settles behind him, cuddling up to spoon him.

It’s nice, having that human contact. Skin against skin, the echo of another heartbeat, the warmth of blood pumping through veins. All the things that happen so automatically that Magnus doesn’t have to think about them.

Alec is _ alive _ and _ close, _ and that helps bring Magnus back all the way.

Magnus regrets it immediately, though he didn’t fully choose it. It _ hurts _ to remember. To _ feel. _

But Alec’s right there, just like before. His arms wrap around Magnus like he can feel it too, like he _ knows. _

“I’m here,” Alec whispers, and Magnus lets out a dry, shuddering sob. He almost wishes he could cry, but that well ran dry earlier.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Alec murmurs, his tone sweet and soothing as he holds Magnus tighter, closer. It’s reassuring, the strength in those archer’s arms. More than the words, those arms seem to speak of commitment, of certainty, of not-leaving.

“I’m… I’m s-sorry,” Magnus whispers.

Alec just moves closer.

“It’s okay,” he says again. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’ve got you. And no matter what - no matter how crazy things get - I won’t let you push me away. I promise.”

Magnus finds a few more tears from somewhere at those words, as he remembers saying a version of them to Alec not so long ago. And yet, here he was, trying to do just that to Alec tonight.

But Alec didn’t go, didn’t let it happen. Alec _ fought _to stay.

Alec - his beautiful, beautiful Alec - has always made such an effort with his words, even though they haven’t always come easily.

_ You’re beautiful. _

_ We always seem to find our way back to each other. _

_ When you walk into a room, there’s a spark in you - magic or not - that lights up everything and anyone around you. _

_ I won’t lose you. _

_ Let me _ ** _be here _ ** _ with you. _

And words are wonderful, lovely, amazing things. But sometimes words stay on the surface, not sinking in.

But this is different. The way Alec has been with him tonight - so gentle yet so _ present _\- is different.

Alec’s used his actions, his touch more than his voice, but Magnus had gotten the message anyway. Maybe even more clearly because of the lack of spoken words.

Alec holding him close had said _ I love you _ and _ I am here. _

Alec taking off his makeup had said: _ You are beautiful to me, with or without makeup. With or without _ ** _magic_**_. _

Alec holding him in bed now? That speaks volumes, and Magnus thinks he understands the underlying words. _ I’m not going anywhere. Whoever you are, High Warlock or mundane, I’m here. I want to fall asleep with you and wake up to you. I want to hold you in the night, however long it may last. We’ll await the dawn together. _

That feels right to Magnus. The image of the night. The velvet of the dark. The pinprick of distant stars. The vast, unknowable emptiness surrounding him.

But maybe, just maybe, there’s more than this. There’s something beyond this, something coming.

“Do you think… we can watch the sun rise tomorrow?” Magnus asks softly.

Alec kisses his shoulder, sweet and gentle. “I think that sounds lovely,” he whispers.

“Thank you… Alexander,” Magnus murmurs, his voice slow and small, his tongue stumbling over the words. It’s so inadequate, so much less than what he means, but he has to say at least that much, even if it’s all he can manage right now.

“Of course, Magnus.” Alec’s voice is warm and full of emotion, bringing a lump to Magnus’ throat. Magnus swallows hard.

Alec speaks again. “Now rest, my love,” he murmurs. “I’ll be right here. You’re not alone.”

Magnus doesn’t know if he’ll be able to sleep, but he closes his eyes obediently.

_ You’re not alone. _

Maybe there’s more than the darkness.

Maybe if it was just Magnus, all on his own in the velvet with the distant suns of other systems… maybe he would be lost out there, floating all on his own.

But here, with Alec’s arms tight around him, with Alec’s chest pressed to his back and Alec’s heart beating against his, maybe he is… not entirely lost.

Maybe here, he is found.

Still floating, perhaps, but tethered. Anchored to something real and solid and true, someone who grounds him and accepts him and loves him. Someone who doesn’t run when things get hard but instead fights to be there at his side, fighting with him. Fighting _ for _him when he can’t fight for himself.

Maybe here with Alec, there is something like hope after all.

**Author's Note:**

> “Hope” is the thing with feathers -  
That perches in the soul -  
And sings the tune without the words -  
And never stops - at all -
> 
> \- Emily Dickinson


End file.
